Don't Drink and Love
by MelodyPond77
Summary: A look into the mind of Voldemort as he gazes upon a feast served at the Malfoy's house. Set sometime in Harry's sixth year. It doesn't really matter when. Written for the Before I Fall competition on HPFC. Seven fics will intertwine in a retelling of one day. Rated M for lots and lots of reference to Bella/Voldy sex. And a bit of Rodolphus/Bella sex, too.
1. I am a King

**Written for my Before I Fall competition. I'm participating to make sure we have an even amount of people if needed. **

**Day one Prompts: "Don't drink and love" and Voldemort. **

**Red (TheNextFolchart) will be picking my one change. **

**WC: 829**

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I sat on my throne, long fingers tapping my wand thoughtfully as I watched my Death Eaters revel in the feast laid before them. I was ice cold, but I was always ice cold, and I had purposefully moved the head chair to the end of the table far from the fire place. I hated the warmth. Warmth reminded me of another fireplace, long ago, at a place I once called home. But Hogwarts could do nothing for me now. It had been taken over by that ignorant, self-centered, scheming, muggle-loving Albus Dumbledore, and it had gone past salvation by this point. My former professor and his pet Harry Potter had stunk up the castle with mudbloods, filth, half-breeds and batty old women who had nothing much to say about their names. The great values of Salazar Slytherin had been lost to time.

My hatred must have shown through my carefully placed façade, for Bellatrix turned towards me, almost lovingly. I fought down a gag as she leaned in close. She had been drinking again, and her breath smelt of firewhiskey. Rodolphus was seated farther down the table, glaring at his wife with passion. He wanted her and could not have her.

That was the way of the world. Those who did not take, lost. Those who lost, complained.

Those who complained, I killed.

"My lord," she said to me, completely breathless. "You do not wish to join in our festivities? We have been telling wonderful jokes, and regaling each other with our favorite memories of muggle catching. I'm sure you have many great stories, my lord?" She leaned in close, the front of her dress slipping down to reveal her large bosom, her black curls spilling across her shoulders and nearly touching her food. Her eyes were simpering, smouldering, and I could tell what she wanted.

I could always tell what they wanted.

"I don't revel in festivities, Bella." I was cold, hard, and completely stand-offish. I would never bend to her charms. I took her when I wanted her, and never before. It put her in her place.

I would take her tonight, though. When she had gone home to Rodolphus, when she was loose enough to actually want him, when she began to think of me (for it was when they thought of me that I could truly penetrate their minds) I would call her back and take her. For now, though, I would send her mixed messages. She never could figure out when I would take her or not. It frustrated her. It built up her want. The pent up anger and frustration only added to her feminine wiles.

"Don't drink and love, Bella. It isn't wise."

She leaned back, confused, just as I predicted.

"Don't drink and love? Whatever do you mean, my lord? Please, do teach me your charming ways, my lord."

Her tone was breathless again, and she was flushing deeper as her brain went through all the various connotations I could mean. It was time to shut her down again.

"I don't think your husband would enjoy your drunken sex, Bellatrix. He's forced to remain married to you. Don't drive him to suicide," I dropped coldly, and inwardly smiled as her lustful expression dropped and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. I was the only one who could make Bellatrix Lestrange cry.

I reveled in making her cry. There were so many different ways I could do it, and each way was better than the last.

I would make her cry again tonight.

I stood, straightening my robes fluidly as the rest of the room fell silent. They all turned towards me, glasses slowing as they were raised to lips, food sliding back onto plates as the myriad of colored eyes rose to meet mine. They all wondered what I could mean by leaving the feast early. Each one of them trembled in their chairs, fearing they would be the next ones to be sent on a suicidal mission. They all had something to fear, and usually it was me.

I loved ruling in fear. It drove away the pain and heartache, and now I felt none of that. My new body was truly magnificent. It didn't need a heart, not in the emotional or literal sense. I lived by the power of my Horcruxes, and I would never be killed.

I was omnipotent. Omnipresent. I was a king.

No, I was _a god. _

"Lucius, Narcissa, I shall be retiring now. I have important business to attend to, however, all of you may enjoy the festivities. You have all been working hard to prepare for our coup, and until Draco has completed his little task, we have time to celebrate the coming age. Carry on."

I turned from the room, my robes flowing smoothly behind me.

I would rule the world.


	2. who needs a Queen

**Written for my Before I Fall competition. I'm participating to make sure we have an even amount of people if needed.**

**Also, pay attention to the chapter titles, they connect to each other. Idk if I'll do that with the rest of the entries, but they do. **

**Level II Prompts: Bellatrix will be sober in this fic, instead of drunk. That was my change**

**Red (TheNextFolchart) will be picking my character for Level III. **

**WC: 1,612**

**Warning: Yea, Bellatrix and Voldemort start getting kinda into each other... So be forewarned. Sexual urges and all that fun stuff. **

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It was yet another crude gathering of yet another group of crude people. My Death Eaters had never caught on that parties were not... how did they say it nowadays... my _thing. _The loud and raucous laughter of their revelry reached my ear and made me cringe. I was the Dark Lord. 'Fun' was not something I partook in. 'Fun' was not something my followers were to partake in. 'Fun' was coupled with the laughter, and therefore it was not acceptable. I only laughed when required to do so, to save my villainous reputation. Ever since that half-blood Disney had tried to capture my 'essence' (his words, not mine) in his various villainous characters, I had been subjected to the whims of his failure.

I had gotten my revenge, though... It was a very particular revenge. The Haunted Mansion really had become haunted.

I was shaken from my memories by a particularly raucous part of a story.

"And how long did he last after that?" I heard Lucius asking, a large grin on his face.

I despised grins. I hated them. I especially hated Lucius'. It only increased his weasel like appearance, and was particularly distasteful when coupled with the leer he threw his wife the moment after.

My hatred must have shown through my carefully placed façade, the one I put on at all these gatherings, for Bellatrix turned towards me, almost lovingly. I braced myself for the smell of firewhiskey, another thing I hated, for I was sure Bella would be drinking. Rodolphus always tried to keep her well...saturated, as he couldn't seem to get any with her in any other way. She seemed to be resisting, though, an assumption that was turned to fact as I smelt no whiskey, and her husband turned towards us with a glare. He wanted her, but she wasn't falling. He could not have her if she was sober.

But that was the way of the world, yes? They wanted and waited and bemoaned when they could not have what they wanted. Only I was brave enough to take. Only I was strong enough to act. Only I was manly enough to get what I wanted. I was a king.

"My Lord," she said to me, somewhat breathless. The woman was infatuated with me, but her soberness allowed her to maintain some semblance of sanity at the moment. Maybe I would need to get her drunk.

But no. I was the Dark Lord. I did not have to stoop to the ways of lowlife men such as Rodolphus before a woman would lie with me. I was better than a king.

"You are not pleased with our festivities?" There was something in her voice that made me turn to her. The breathlessness was gone; her words were clipped and her tone was backed by a hard edge. She sat ramrod straight and held her head high, for once staring me straight in the face. It was a much different look than she normally gave me; that one was filled with lowered lids and revealing leans, always leading in with her breasts and tossing her curls in what she believed to be an arousing way. This gaze, however, was fiercer, more defiant, and much angrier.

The bitch was actually _angry _with me. Her Lord. Her Master. Her king. The Dark Lord's faithful servant was angry with him.

I wondered for a moment what Lucius had slipped into his sister-in-law's drink when I recalled she hadn't had any.

"Festivities do not agree with me, as I'm sure you would recall, Bellatrix," I answered coldly. I met her gaze fearlessly. Fire must be fought with fire. I would not yield. I would bend Bellatrix Lestrange to my will until she broke, and then I would take her in and comfort her. By the end she would be so enthralled with me once more, she would do anything for me.

Perhaps even kill her own husband. Rodolphus really was no further use to me...

"My Lord? I asked you a question." Her eyes were narrowed as she picked up on my disinterest.

The bitch dared to interrupt my inner dialogue? She was strengthening her resolve. I should never have let a woman into my service. I would always rue the day I had let my male features make decisions.

"What is it, Bellatrix?" I asked, bored. Let her see my boredom and cower. The King defeated all the cards in this game.

"I _said, _Cissy put so much effort into making sure everything was perfect for this feast. Her house elves have slaved away over the meal, and you've barely touched it. The wine seems to be perfection itself, but you've hardly touched that as well. You've been invited warmly into my sister's manor, and have not had the graciousness to show your thanks. Each and every one of your Death Eaters has put everything on the line for you at least once this year, and do we get any gratitude? No, we don't. So I asked you, _My Lord, _when do we get a moment's rest? When may we celebrate with the Lord we all wish to please?"

Silence reigned over the room. I let it settle, calmly, silently, not once dropping my façade to show the fear within me. Bellatrix was my most faithful follower. If she jumped ship, everyone would. And while it would be simple to gather more followers, fear could not train them to be as great as my veteran fighters. Only the time, skill, and devotion these few followers had shown would make the followers I needed.

She had pulled out an Ace. Damn her.

"What is it that you want, Bellatrix?" I asked softly, my voice slithering across the words. I was completely still, gazing at her, showing her how close she was to seeing her dear parents again. But she didn't back down. While everyone else around the table leaned back in fear, Bellatrix seemed to sit up straighter, pulling more fire into her.

"I want to see the pleasure on your face when you realize how much any one of us would do for you. I want to go out on a mission, knowing I might not come back and know that you will actually feel something if I live or die. I want to stand by your side at the end and know that you know I will do _anything _for you.

"I want to know you have emotions."

She wanted... emotions? What? My mask slipped in confusion, and I quickly pulled it back on. I looked at her then, truly looked at her, and saw the pain and devotion and... love, in her eyes. Something with in me snapped. My breathing quickened slightly, and my eyes widened, and I saw her in a new light. She was truly beautiful. I felt a familiar hardness in my trousers and was shocked momentarily. I hadn't been susceptible to uncontrolled urges since I was still a young, innocent boy.

"Leave us," I commanded the others, never once breaking eye contact with Bellatrix. Everyone was quick to leave but Rodolphus, who looked back once at his wife and me with a glare before shutting the door behind him. In the echoing silence Bellatrix continued to stare at me.

"My Lord-"

"Bellatrix, why have you chosen now to speak out against me?" I looked at her hard, knowing she might try to lie and preparing for it.

"I was-"

"You lie!" I hissed. "Tell me the truth."

She glanced down at her hands.

"I fell in love. And I wanted to know if it was reciprocated." Oh. Dear Salazar she was _in_ _love with me. _

"I don't love you, Bellatrix. I don't love anyone. I can't love anyone." I said woodenly.

"But do you feel anything for me? I'm not even sure if you lust after me, and I'd like to know at least that. I'd like to know that you would feel something if I lived or died, even if it's just anger because someone has taken something away from you. I don't mind that," she pleaded.

Oh, god she was pleading.

I sighed. I could lie and say I would feel nothing but... I felt a pang in my lower abdomen.

"Yes, I feel something for you, Bellatrix. It isn't love. It could just be lust. It could just be possessiveness. I don't know. But I do feel something," I admitted.

She smiled, a grin that was much better than Lucius'. "And do you feel something now?" She asked, coming to bend over me with her sultry stare that now I found quite appealing.

"Yes, I do." She was mine. Not Rodolphus'. She was all mine, and she and I both knew it.

"I'm glad you aren't lying to me," she whispered as she straddled my lap, lips touching the cold white skin of my throat.

"And how can you tell I'm not lying?" I asked, pulling her closer.

"You and I are both sober. This usually doesn't happen until I'm drunk enough to sleep with Rodolphus."

So she did notice my plans. Ah well. C'est la vie.

It was good to be king.


End file.
